Stories vs. Facts

I watched an episode of LOST last night in which one of the characters told another one that he loved her.  There'd been a tension going on for awhile in the show, then other characters entered in as possible love interests further muddying the water, and then this -- an out and out declaration. 

The fact that love was declared isn't really the most interesting tidbit, though. What I find interesting is that that scene kept running through my mind, unbidden, while I was stuffing laundry into the washing machine.  I'd most recently spent about an hour working on the church finances and sending out work related emails.  My mind had many other facts and figures it could have settled on.  But it settled on a story.  It wasn't even a matter of recalling the "fact" in the story (that love was declared) but recalling the whole scene, the trees, the looks on their faces, the words themselves.  

Stories are like that.  They contain facts, or details.  (I should point out that I'm using the word "facts" somewhat loosely here.  It's a "fact" that the statement was made in the show.  But given that the show is entirely fictional, how much of a "fact" is that really?) But stories contain so much more -- context, images, actions and reactions, feelings.  When I was stuffing laundry into the washing machine, it wasn't just an impersonal detail that drifted into my mind, it was a whole feeling that seemed to expand in my chest, an image that flashed before my eyes, a sensation of reliving the moment in all of its joy and angst. 

D recently posted something along the same lines (although the concern was rather different). Stories stay with us differently than facts do.  They seem to nest within us, occasionally flapping their wings to remind us of their presence.  

It's interesting to note that dreams come in the form of stories -- not necessarily coherent stories, but stories all the same.  We don't wake up and think, "Wow, that was quite a dream about the periodic table." If we're going to have a dream about science, it will involve action and people and some odd plot line that we'll later try to explain to our spouse or friend or roommate and we'll struggle because we recognize that we're simply not doing the intricate twists and turns any justice.  We don't dream in lists or outlines or powerpoint presentations. We dream in stories. And when I wake up, I'll feel that story in a way that I just don't feel facts and figures. 

I think facts are important. The right set of facts can build up into a compelling story eventually.  But to remember something, to connect with it and respond to it, what works best is a story. That's exactly why the anecdotal evidence is often believed despite facts to the contrary.  It's not scientific or precise, but it's compelling.  It connects to my being in a way that facts simply don't. 

Trust

Our church has recently gone through a  bit of turmoil as our last pastor, well past 70 and exhibiting symptoms of Alzheimers, left in a huff when it was suggested that the church should hire a part time assistant pastor who would take over the preaching responsibilities and would eventually become the head pastor when he finally decided to retire.  That left our little church (40 people on a good day -- including kids) looking for a new shepherd for our flock. 

So a pastoral search committee was appointed -- 5 guys (all Ss) and me (an N).   (More on S/N here.)  We met with 6 candidates either in person or on the phone and it was absolutely fascinating the differing reactions we had.  Though in general we had similar responses to candidates, there were occasions when I wanted to stop and say, "Wait.  Were you and I in the same meeting just now?"  It became very clear to me that the differences in our perceptions regarding the candidates fell right along S/N lines.  While I would be reading between the lines and getting an overall sense of how our future as a church would look with such-and-such candidate, the guys would all be listening to very specific details in what the candidate said.  They were also much more likely to consider what I think of was resume-details -- how much experience does this person have, where has he worked before, etc.

The day finally came to sit down and figure out who we, as a committee, wanted to pursue, and who we felt wouldn't be a good fit.   It was a very tense meeting and one in which these differences became utterly apparent.  While I had read between the lines and decided that one candidate was an excellent match, they had looked at the specifics and seen that he was a no go.  And on the flip side, several of them were very gung-ho for a fella who, when I pictured where he'd take the church, in my opinion would have had a great honeymoon with us and then the relational issues would begin.  

As we sat around the coffee table giving our pro's and con's for various candidates, we could have shouted, argued, fussed and fumed about our positions.  It could have torn us apart as a committee and it could have prolonged our search and perhaps led us to call someone who would be a very poor match for our congregation.  But instead, it became very clear that despite our strong stances on candidates, we were committed to agreeing.  

None of us articulated this at the time, and I don't know that we even thought it through while in the midst of it, but our actions were clear.  As strongly as we felt, we all knew that this was not worth risking disunity over. 

As well as the meeting went, it was still incredibly hard and when I came home afterwards I risked waking my kids up just because I needed the hugs.  

We had several meetings after that point, some with our culled through set of candidates and some without, and we eventually unanimously and wholeheartedly agreed on a guy who, I feel strongly was Providentially appointed to join us (and he, his family, and his current church even agree on this).   He'll be arriving in September as our full time pastor. 

Looking back, what is remarkable is not that we found a guy in only 7 months, nor that he's as excited about coming as we are about having him.  What utterly amazes me is that the folks in that search committee, despite strong differences of opinion, with every reason to distrust, chose rather to believe that we are a body -- the body of Christ.  We recognize that the harmony and growth of that body depends upon us each, on an individual level, just as the health of a physical body depends upon the working together and growth of the individual cells.  We will grow together or we will wither apart.  

Through this time of trial, we have chosen to grow together. 

A Dandelion Wine Wordle

boopoo is the name of the font.

This is a wordle of Dandelion Wine. As best I can figure, it seems to rely more heavily upon recent posts and tends to ignore the older ones. So it would be interesting to do a wordle a month and see how it changes.

The Gifts of the Jews: How a Tribe of Desert Nomads Changed the Way Everyone Thinks and Feels

http://barefootmeg.multiply.com/reviews/item/29
Click through to see Meg's review of Thomas Cahill's book, The Gifts of the Jews: How a Tribe of Desert Nomads Changed the Way Everyone Thinks and Feels.

Is there a "Christian Presence"?

Today I was asked a question that truly stumped me.  "Is there a Christian presence in Fort Collins?"  The person asking me that question had heard that nearby Colorado Springs had a Christian presence and was wondering if Fort Collins was similar. He was thinking of moving here, but my answer to the Christian presence question was going to be part of what helped him decide whether to choose Fort Collins or somewhere else.  

What am I supposed to say to that?  I'm a Christian.  I live in Fort Collins.  So is there a Christian presence here?  I'd like to think so. If not, I had better get down on my knees and do some soul searching.

I lived in San Francisco before moving here.  I suspect this guy would automatically assume there's no Christian presence there, but there is. I know that presence.  I've lived among it. And I think the Christians that I know in San Francisco are some of the most honest, thoughtful, non-hypocritical Christians I know.  

So what exactly is this guy looking for?  What are the words beneath the words in his question?  To be honest, I don't really know for sure.  But I have some guesses.  

I graduated from high school in Colorado Springs.  The city went through a recession right around the time that I moved away to go to college.  (M go Blue! Rah Rah. And all that jazz.) Housing and commercial property became so cheap that Christian organizations from Southern Cal. began to stream in.  The Springs was a comfortable place for conservative Christians to move because it had a strong military presence and there were already a few Christian organizations located there.  Christians increasingly started getting involved in local and state-wide politics.  They were a force to be reckoned with and, I have to say, none of my recollections of that time period were at all positive. I was just glad that I could escape during the school year.

So as best I can figure, this guy wants to know if Christians run this place in the way that they've tried to run Colorado Springs.  Perhaps he wants to know if there are gated Christian communities here like there are down in the Springs.  Or maybe he's trying to gauge the political climate in Fort Collins since Republican and Christian are synonymous to many folks these days and that was his round-about way of asking. 

And now I find myself in my own dilemma.  Although I was able to give a brief reply and then shove the question off for the elder of our church to deal with, I'm now faced with the idea that this couple might come to join our church some day.  And to be honest, if it were up to me, I'd do my best to turn them away.  I don't want to have to deal with people that think like that. 

But if it comes to that (and to be honest, it already does "come to that" fairly often with the people who are already in our church) I know I'll welcome them warmly. I'll help them find their way around Fort Collins and nod and smile when they express their opinions about politics and weirdo tree-huggers. 

Then I'll proceed to be me in their presence. 

I've found that nothing is more unsettling to an insular, comfortable Christian than another Christian who is doctrinally just as reformed and knowledgeable as they are, but who's a vegetarian, bikes rather than drives to church, wants to use the Church grounds for a garden rather than nothing but a bunch of grass, and who believes that when God said, "Let there be light," the light was followed by an inflationary period in which energy turned into matter which eventually aggregated into stars and planets. 

And perhaps, as grumpy tree-hugging me learns to love grumpy insular them, and they in turn come to love me as well, then, truly, there will be a Christian presence in Fort Collins. 

Barack, Paul and Walls

"The walls between old allies on either side of the Atlantic cannot stand.  The walls between the countries with the most and those with the east cannot stand.  The walls between races and tribes, natives and immigrants, Christian and Muslim and Jew cannot stand.  These now are the walls we must tear down."    -- Barack  Obama, speaking in Berlin

"Here there is no Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all." -- Paul, to the Colossians

"For Jesus himself is our peace, who has made the two one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility." -- Paul, to the Ephesisans

Reformed Worship | Imitating God: Doing Justice as a Condition of Authentic Worship

http://www.reformedworship.org/magazine/article.cfm?article_id=1221&id=68
"Authentic worship" is one of the buzz phrases of the emerging church movement. Tired of churches that seem dead, like the congregants are just going through the motions, people of the emerging culture are looking for something true, for something real, for something authentic. (They often achieve authenticity with props and staging, but I'll go into that in greater detail in my upcoming review of Dan Kimball's book on the Emerging Church.)

So my interest was piqued when, in my study on justice, I came across this article, in a Reformed magazine no less. The author addresses what Biblically authentic worship is. It doesn't have anything to do with incense and stained glass as the Catholics and Emergents might propose, nor does it focus on the congregational reading of creeds or worship taking place in a specific order as many Reformed churches hold. Rather, the only Biblically mandated marker for authentic worship is justice. Yuppers, that's what I said. The J word. And you know what, I think Nicholas might be right on the money on this one.

What follows are the thesis paragraphs from the article:

"Everybody believes that some worship lacks authenticity. Some people believe that the use of set prayers deprives worship of authenticity; the prayers must be prayers that the Spirit leads us to pray spontaneously. Some believe that having an ordained woman lead the service deprives the worship of authenticity. Some believe that the minister’s failure to hold certain theological views deprives it of authenticity. Some believe that worship without “enthusiasm” is deprived of authenticity. And so forth. Perhaps some of these views about the conditions of authenticity are implied by Scripture; none is explicitly taught there.

Scripture does explicitly teach that if worshipers fail to practice justice in their everyday lives, then their worship lacks authenticity. What I mean by worship lacking authenticity is that God finds it offensive."

Woa, Nelly! The man doesn't pull any punches, does he?